


... God knows I lied, God knows I lost...

by Fangirlingmanaged



Series: God Knows I... [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt Tony, M/M, Protective Steve, Steve Angst, Steve Feels, Steve Needs a Hug, Tony Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, steve is an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlingmanaged/pseuds/Fangirlingmanaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve can't accept that he's going to lose everything like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	... God knows I lied, God knows I lost...

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [爱的傀儡](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6929281) by [bluebluebonnet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebluebonnet/pseuds/bluebluebonnet)



They always say that there are two sides to every story; it’s a common belief among people that both sides should be explained and viewed equally. What they don’t tell you, though, is that sometimes one side weights more than the other. In his case, Steve thinks that his side of the story shouldn’t even be told. It’s so incredibly insignificant compared to the sides of all the people he’s hurt. Sam, Natasha, _jesus Christ_ , what he did to Rhodey… Making Bucky even more of a public enemy than he already was. Alienating him more from his own people than he’d ever done. Painting a big star spangled, red white and blue target on his back.

Much worse than that, though, is this. What he’s holding in his hands and is slipping away from him with every labored breath that the man is taking. His side of the story shouldn’t even be thought to exist because of _him_. Because of what he did to Tony, _his Tony_ , the man who trusted him with something much more valuable than his own life. He’d always known himself to be stubborn. God, his mother had had enough strops about him because of it. Too stubborn to let illness keep him from school, too stubborn to let the Depression kill him with hunger, too stubborn to stay at home and rest instead of going out to do any job he could find, too stubborn to quit on his momma when she was obviously too sick, too stubborn to admit she was dying, too stubborn to let Bucky help him, too stubborn to quit on the war, too stubborn to see the many glasses of scotch Howard drank even back then, too stubborn to think Bucky was dead the first time they captured him, too stubborn to accept the twenty first century, too stubborn to let anyone in, too stubborn to let the dead trails stay dead… then, there were the times when he had proven himself to be undeserving of the man that now laid dying in his arms. The things he’d yelled at Tony in the hellicarrier, when he’d been too stubborn to apologize even when Tony had _carried a nuke into space and almost died,_ and yet Tony had forced him into the tower and made him be part of a team. Of a family. God, Tony had given him everything he’d wanted back in the 40’s and what had he done? What had Steve done?

He’d destroyed all of that, had destroyed everything Tony had so painstakingly built for himself and Steve, because he was too busy stuck in the past. He was too stubborn to realize that life moved on, and so did the people in it. Bucky had come back to find him, of his volition, when he’d been ready. Yes, he’d needed help with the people that were trying to paint him as a monster, but there had been another way. There could have been another way. If only he’d _fucking listened_ to what Tony was saying; if he’d only seen what Tony was trying to tell him even when he couldn’t have said it out loud.

                                                                                      ***********

 _Steve’s latest conversation with Natasha had been… strange. And disconcerting. Sure, the super assassin had been subtle and mysterious about her message, and he wasn’t surprised about that because that was kind of in her job description, but she’d been very cryptic about it. saying things like “do something before it’s too late” and “this is a titan you need to leave at peace, Steve” and “Tony wants you to lay low for now.” and that had infuriated him, that she had been the one to tell him these things rather than Tony. Tony, his friend, his_ best _friend right now. The man that took him to bed every night. The man who Steve made love to every night. His lover. His fella. His sweetheart. Why couldn’t Tony be the one telling him this?_

_Sure, this was at the point where Steve wasn’t in the tower anymore. Rather, he was bouncing from safe house to motel to apartment to safe house for Bucky. He’d been trying to find a way to help his friend even after the ultimatum he had been given. Tony had tried, of course, to stop him before he packed up his bike and left. Had downright pleaded with the soldier to stay, to hold on, to see the bigger picture. Steve had yelled a lot of vitriol back. About Tony’s insensitivity, about his lack of understanding; had called Tony things like cold hearted and selfish and fickle. Had said things like “you don’t understand because you’ve never had a real friend who wasn’t with you for your money” which was a complete lie because of course Tony had. Tony had the team, and Rhodey and plenty of friends he didn’t realize were there. Steve had yelled at him that “his petty jealousy wouldn’t stop him from getting the only man who knew the real him back.” Which was an even bigger lie than the other one because Bucky didn’t know him, not like that, not like Tony knew him by that point. Bucky never learned of the tears Steve cried when he’d gone to war, Bucky didn’t know about the slashes Steve had made on himself after his mother’s death that had been preserved by the serum because they’d already been there, Bucky doesn’t know about the nightmares and the screaming panic attacks, he doesn’t know about the fail trials with Sharon and the others, he doesn’t know about Steve’s self-discovery of his sexuality and his hidden quirks, he doesn’t know about the late night movie marathons or the ass-o’clock-in-the-morning dance parties in a pent house, he didn’t know about the fits of giggles in the workshop or the hidden charcoal paintings of dark brown eyes or the inside jokes told over comm lines that gave Fury near coronaries. Bucky didn’t know what had made the new Steve, the 21 st century Steve; Bucky didn’t know how the old Steve and the new Steve had intertwined to make this new man, hardened by war and pain but still willing to believe. Still able to make others believe. Even a slightly bent out of shape cynic like Anthony Stark. _

_Still, he’d lied to him. To his lover, his baby, had told him all of those things that had never been true in his heart. He’d been angry, even at that point, that Tony wasn’t putting blind faith in him like he’d expected. Had thought_ Tony’s _judgement was clouded with statistics and schematics; had put his belief that Extremis had made Tony less… understanding. So after Nat’s message he’d gone in halfcocked to have a conversation he_ should _have had level headed. He’d been wearing his uniform then, as he’d strolled into the communal floor of the tower that was eerily, depressingly desolate. Tony had been living there alone; not in the penthouse, but in the communal floor that their family used to share._

 _The other man looked… haggard would be too generous a word to use. More like worn out; completely sucked of life. Steve must not have been much better, and he knew it. His hair was greasy and unkept. He’d run into a bullet or two by then, and even slashes from knives. He’d scratched at his arms in anxiousness, and he’d had enough moments of clarity to break down constantly and cry in anguish for the wedge he was driving between them, but again he’d been too stubborn to look for a solution. He’d thought he was right, and he had thought Tony knew he was right, and had carried on. Had carried on on hurting both of them. Bucky had had to wake him up from several nightmares a night; nightmares of seeing Tony beaten and bloody with a shattered reactor and a puncture armor. Had seen Bucky embedding his fist, or his foot, or his knives, and even_ the shield _into the center of Tony’s armor. Of the things that kept his lover alive. He’d woken up as he used to when he had asthma, gasping for breath and his heart pounding painfully in his chest. It had taken Bucky and Sam both to strap him down; they had sedated him in more than one occasion._

 _God, how he’d wanted to reach and grab Tony. To hold him close to his chest, and beg for forgiveness in his ear. Had wanted to ask if he, too, woke up panicked because there wasn’t another body in their bed. If Tony, too, had broken down by seeing a_ fucking yellow daisy _crumpled in a house he’d snuck in to spy. He wanted to know if Tony had thought about driving his bike off the bend of the mountain he was driving through. He wanted to know if Tony’s friends had held him for hours at the time as he mourned for what he’d torn down. He wanted to know if Tony dreamt of cold eyes, and broken brittle laughter. He wanted to know if he heard his friend’s voices, trembling and distant, as his mind disconnected from his body and he stared silently at a wall. He wanted to know if Tony’s fingers trembled every time he grabbed something that reminded him of his fella. He wanted to ask Tony so many things, but Bucky’s breathing in his earpiece reminded him that he was on stolen time._

_“What did Natasha mean?” Steve demanded, but Tony’s tilted head told him the genius knew he was acting. Nobody had been able to read him the way his fella did._

_“I assume you know she meant exactly what she said,” Tony told him quietly. That was new, too, another thing Steve was responsible for. Tony had always been loud and exuberant; easily excitable and charismatic. Now, though, dear God now Tony couldn’t pretend like he wasn’t hurting. Steve had watched the interviews, had put his fist through three monitors because of them, and even then Tony’s voice was quiet. Subdued. Defeated._

_“You want me to stand down, put everything on the line. Make his sacrifice be for nothing,” Tony’s mouth twisted as Steve told him this. He clearly didn’t agree with the phrasing, but he nodded just the same. “You’re a real cynic, you know that, Tony?”_

_“I don’t want a war!” Tony snapped forcefully. His fists were clenched and shaking, and if Steve had just been willing to see it he could have noticed how terrified he was. “I don’t want more deaths. I don’t want more pain. Especially for you!”_

_“Don’t make this about me!” Steve hadn’t seen any of the signs, clear as they were. All he could hear was Bucky’s breathing in his ear. “He’s my friend, Tony, tell me you see why it’s important to me to fix it.”_

_“Why like this?” Tony asked him brokenly. “I am_ not _against you, Steve. Of all the people around you, I am not against you.”_

_“It sure feels like it,” Steve knew he had tears in his eyes. God, how had they drifted this far? How had he let that happen? “Every time I see a TV I see you telling everyone that you’re close to catching him. Like he’s some… some… wild animal. Like he can be broken down and controlled. Do you even know what being broken down and molded is?”_

_“Yes. Every day,” Tony whispered, so quietly Steve’s super hearing was the only reason he caught it. And Steve felt, once more, the horror and the burning rage he had for Howard, for Obie, for the whole fucking world for hurting him like this._

_“Tony, that’s not—“_

_“And that’s not what I want,” Tony interrupted him, his voice stronger. “I don’t want him to ever be used like that. He’ not a lab rat; he was fucking tortured. Of anyone, you should know that I know_ exactly _how he felt. I don’t want him fucking contained. All I want, what I’ve been arguing and lobbying for, is to give him a chance. To keep him secured until he starts to get better. I’ve seen him,” Steve looked at him wide eyed, and Tony looked away. “I’ve had Friday… check the civilian cameras from time to time. Make sure they didn’t hurt you, and I’ve seen him. He’s… different from the Winter Soldier. I’ve… I’ve been fighting for that.”_

_“They won’t do it,” Steve had told him brokenly. Had watched the hope seep out of Tony and replace it with something horrible. Something broken and… disillusioned. Something close to dead. “Baby, you know I can’t—“_

_“Trust me,” Tony finished for him. His eyes snapped back up to meet Steve’s gaze. It didn’t waver, and Steve felt it like a stab. “You can’t trust me not to fuck this up. You can’t trust me because every time I try to prevent a war something worse happens. Thousands die, and I’m the one responsible for it.”_

_Steve should have argued, right then and there, because none of that was true. None of it had been like that. None of it. Tony wasn’t a monster; God, Tony was the farthest thing from a monster Steve knew, even himself. Yet, he’d stayed quiet. He’d let Tony believe that was what Steve saw in him._

_“I won’t fight this war against you, Cap,” Tony told him quietly as he moved to the elevator. “I am sick and tired of watching the people I lo—care about die. I won’t watch you die.”_

_*****_

_Tony wouldn’t have to watch him die now,_ Steve thought hysterically as he cradled Tony’s body to him and cherished the last few seconds he had with him. When his execution came, Tony wouldn’t have to be there. The thought tore an anguished sob out of the soldier. He couldn’t—he couldn’t hold it inside anymore. He couldn’t pretend he was okay when he was losing the only thing that kept his world spinning anymore. He’d been fighting this stupid battle, this godforsaken war that he hadn’t even wanted to create, because he’d known protecting Bucky was the right thing. Because of that, and because he’d known Tony was still around. That Tony was still fighting for him even if he was, as Steve had thought then, fighting with him too. Tony had been wrong then, when he said Steve didn’t trust him, he’d trusted Tony to keep fighting for them until it proved useless. He just hadn’t trusted Tony to make it work.

“—teve,” Buck’s voice breaks him out of his desperate crying into Tony’s hair. He’s long stopped moving. God, he could be—“Snap out of it, Rogers! He’s fucking dying. I won’t let you let him die.”

“Wass ‘appenin’?” God, his voice sounds wrecked. How long has he been crying for Tony now?

“I need you to let Tony go,” Oh, hey, Natasha’s here now. When did she get here? And is that--? Steve must have made some sort of questioning noise because she meets his eyes and nods solemnly. “It is. I need you to let him go so that I can put it inside and try to salvage what you destroyed.” The way she says it makes him think she means something more than the reactor. He drops his gaze in shame.

He moves out of the way, stands next to Bucky on shaky legs, as her delicate fingers prod and twist at the reactor. She takes the old one, the shattered one and God Steve turns his face into Bucky’s shoulder to not look at it, and puts the new one inside. Not even Bucky’s steady stream of “it’s all right, Stevie, it’s okay. He’s gonna be just fine. Your fella’s the toughest son of a bitch I ever seen. He’s gonna pull through. I know, c’mon, have a little faith, Cap,”s can do anything to alleviate the pain in his chest when she swears in Russian and begins speaking rapidly into what must be a comm.

Everything is blurry and fast after that. There’s a whole bunch of people coming into the building they had been in. Men and women in SHIELD uniforms that are wrinkled and dirty. They carry in a stretcher, heave Tony onto it and _god he looks dead he’s not moving dear lord no what have they done, his Tony, his baby… he broke him_ , and they take him outside. Steve follows them blindly, not even noticing he’s not even being cuffed, as they load him into a quinjet. He tries to get on, but a medic tells him “Sorry, Cap, he has to go alone,” and Steve almost _beats his face in_ because like _fuck_ is Steven not gonna be there for Tony _again,_ but then Bucky’s there to hold him back and Natasha puts herself between them.

As the quinjet lifts into the air, carrying Steve’s heart with it, he can’t stop himself from asking. From seeking reassurance. “What happens now?”

Natasha looks down at him. Her contempt and her anger not as well hidden as she probably hopes it is. Her red hair is blowing in the breeze, and her uniform is torn and bloody. There’s a slash on her neck, and the beginnings of a black eye. She meets his gaze evenly as she tells him, “You pray to God he’s stupid enough to forgive you. And by God, Steve, if he does—“her voice breaks. “If he does you beg forgiveness every _fucking_ day.”

**Author's Note:**

> I mean, are you still hating him? is this even making you want to slap him any less or...?


End file.
